


view from the back row

by zimtlein



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Bonding, F/M, Headcanon, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Post-Canon, Self-Worth Issues, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 14:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimtlein/pseuds/zimtlein
Summary: Moon doesn’t become Alola’s champion. Guzma does his best to become a better person.As they meet night after night in a bar in Hau’oli, Guzma comes to realize just how much they have in common.





	view from the back row

**Author's Note:**

> It will be mentioned in the fic, but just to make sure it isn't overlooked, Moon is 19 here. I wrote this when Ultra Soon/Ultra Moon wasn't out yet, so this whole fic is strictly based on Sun/Moon canon.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

A Kantonian bar in the east of Hau’oli. At sixteen, Guzma had discovered it through a friend, getting drunk in there almost every night. Some nights later, he met Plumeria – and her impressive pallet of colorful pills. She had laughed at him, watching as he puked his guts out on the nearby beach. Since then, he had never dared touch speed again.

So there he was years later, a glass of beer in front of him as he desperately tried to drink himself into oblivion. He didn’t give a shit about wine. Way too snobbish. And Alolan cocktails – could have swallowed some sugar cubes instead. Only thing left was beer. Much beer.

“Now, would you look at that! Your boy, big bad Guzma is here!”

A voice, clear as a bell. Guzma turned his head to face her. Moon. She looked so young. Fifteen, sixteen? With her thin arms and legs, with her big round eyes. When she noticed his stare, she raised her eyebrows.

“Your cue for a snide remark.”

With an unamused snort, he averted his gaze.

“Wow. All right.” She sat down on the barstool next to him. The barkeeper, a middle-aged man with a Johtonian accent, eyed her for some long seconds. She returned his stare defiantly. “A rum and coke for me.”

“ID.”

Moon kept staring. Her eyes darkened as she pulled her trainer ID from her pocket. The barkeeper studied the piece of plastic longer than necessary. Then he handed it back, one eyebrow raised, and headed for the bottles.

“Fucking asshole,” she hissed when he was out of earshot. Before she could put her ID away, Guzma grabbed her wrist and snatched that thing from her fingers. Fuck, she looked young. Even on the photo. A thing like her couldn’t be twenty-one years old.

Because she wasn’t.

“Date’s the wrong font.” He gave her the ID back. “And it’s offset. Only some inches, but ‘s still noticeable. How much did you pay?”

“More than enough.” Moon smiled sweetly when the barkeeper shoved her drink in her direction. While she tucked her hand into her pocket, searching for money, Guzma smacked a random banknote right under the barkeeper’s nose.

She looked up and her smile fell. “Since when are you being that generous, oh hated boss?”

He didn’t respond.

“Having a bad day, huh?”

He shot her an annoyed look.

“Hey, I don’t mind. I’m a good talker. Could do all of the talking for you, if you want to.” With a smirk, she raised the glass to her lips. “If we’re being honest, talking isn’t your strong suit anyway.”

He held back an angry hiss and instead emptied half of his beer in one gulp. Her eyes twinkling, she watched. Then she took a sip herself, not batting an eye when the alcohol met her tongue. Somehow he expected a small girl like her to screw up her face at the taste. She didn’t.

“Sun would love this bar,” she said.

The name alone almost made him lose all self-control. With a growl, he slammed his hands against the table surface. “Brat can try to show his face in here. Gonna throw him out in seconds, just ya see.”

“Oh, hey! We’ve got at least one thing in common!” She showed a wide grin. “I hate him too.”

Simple hatred was good. Complicated hatred was another story. Even if Guzma seemed stupid to most people, he could very well recognize what lay behind Moon’s tone. His anger vanished as fast as it had appeared.

“Yeah, can you imagine? Cute little Moon having feelings.” Her grin fell. “Don’t make that stupid face, Guzma.”

“Then don’t say stupid crap, princess.”

The pet name made the corners of her mouth twitch. “Huh, surprising. You can talk.” Slowly, she lifted her eyebrows until a tight smile had built on her lips. “And yet, anything that comes from your mouth is dumb shit. Who would have thought?”

“You lil’ goddamn –” He interrupted himself, took a deep breath, opened his clenched fists. Then he gulped down his beer for good. A cutting gesture let the barkeeper know that another beer was needed.

“What? Did Hala teach you how to meditate? You’re doing great, by the way. Inhale, exhale.”

He closed his eyes and wished to be elsewhere. Anywhere. Of course, his wish wasn’t granted.

“Don’t turn red. Keep breathing. You’ve got a talent for that, you know?” She slid from one side to the other on her stool. He could hear it, but he didn’t want to open his eyes. Not yet. “Well, knowing you, that might be your only talent.”

He wrenched his eyes open. Moon blinked at him innocently. Way too thin, way too fragile. And still having a big mouth like that. Because there was nothing else that he could do, he grabbed her glass and tossed the whole brewage down. He didn’t even leave the ice cubes behind. Then he smacked the glass back onto the counter.

Moon stared at him. “Seriously?”

“Paid for that.”

“Seriously?” she repeated. “That’s your way of being passive-aggressive?”

He chewed on the ice cubes and turned away from her.

“You’re a jerk.” Despite her words, she sounded so amused that Guzma dared a side-glance at her. She was grinning. Her eyes seemed to light up when she smiled. Small dimples formed on her cheeks. It made her look even younger than usual. He felt the weird need to grab her, to get her out of this bar. To get her somewhere she could simply be young, somewhere she could smile like that all the time. A place like this didn’t fit a girl like her.

When the barkeeper gave him his fourth beer for the evening, Moon ordered another drink for herself. Guzma paid for that one, too. At that, she laughed with her clear voice.

“Let’s make a toast.” Moon raised her glass. “To Sun, the most moronic champion in the history of champions.”

“Alola doesn’t have a history of champions,” he grumbled.

“Well, um, yeah. That’s the joke.” She rolled her eyes and clinked his glass against his, even though he hadn’t raised it. “Especially slow today, boss?”

He had no idea how to survive this evening.

One week later he met her again. Moon casually sat down right next to him without a moment of hesitation. The bar was as empty as always. Because the barkeeper didn’t recognize her, she had to hand him her ID again. As soon as his back was to her, she flipped him off and made faces at him.

“Dude, ya acting like you’re twelve,” it escaped him.

“Not a dude.” She wrinkled her forehead. “And I don’t think you of all people should be telling me that.”

He stared at her blankly.

“After everything you did last week …” She shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

What? All he could remember was that they made a toast. Everything after that was black nothingness. Not his first blackout. At least he had woken up at home – fully clothed and with an ugly headache, but anyway.

She eyed him. “Oh. You can’t remember.”

He could feel all blood leaving his face. “What? What did I do?”

“I mean, most of it was fun nonsense. But then … I thought it would mean something to you.” Moon averted her gaze. She leaned her face onto her hand, hid her expression from him. “I know. It was my fault too, but …”

His heart sank to his knees. He didn’t dare touch her. In his youth, he had done some dumb shit. Stole road signs, took some restaurants’ blackboards home with him, ran through the streets half-naked. Thought it was hilarious, long ago. Then drinking became something solitary. Something lonely.

But he would have never, _never_ so much as touched a girl like her.

“Shit, Moon.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “No idea what I did, but – Moon, didn’t wanna hurt ya, didn’t wanna … I’m sorry. What did I do? What did I …”

She looked at him again, one hand pressed over her mouth. Something about her eyes was wrong. He had expected disappointment. Or worse, fear. Instead she almost seemed amused.

“Heavens, calm down,” she said. “You started swooning over your Golisopod. For hours, I swear. Then you fell asleep on the counter. I somehow managed to get you home. That’s all.”

He stared at her.

“Come on! I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d take me that seriously!” Her laugh was muffled underneath her hand. “Don’t tell me you’re doing that often? Hitting on little girls when you’re drunk?”

Abruptly he stood up, emptied his beer, and headed for the exit. A starless night awaited him, a half moon hanging in the sky. He started to swear, trying to vent in at least some way. Until he arrived at the beach. Some tourists were taking a walk over the sand, but he didn’t pay them any attention. Instead he carelessly kicked trash into the water which had been discarded here and there, trying to make his boiling blood cool down.

Only some minutes later, Moon appeared behind him. She watched him wordlessly, and he didn’t dare look at her. Maybe he would have lost all control if he did. Maybe he would have directed all his anger at her. Just like she would have deserved.

“Guzma,” she said.

He didn’t react, his back still turned to her.

“All right. Cold shoulder. Doesn’t bother me.” He heard a rustle, a thudding sound. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore and looked over his shoulder. Moon sat in the sand, cross-legged, face turned toward the moon. Black hair played around her cheeks. He studied her longer than he was comfortable with.

“You know what’s really funny?” she spoke without looking at him. “My whole life, I keep dreaming about being the strongest trainer in Alola. I train. Go to school. Graduate with honors. Keep training.” She smiled. “Start my journey. And surprise, would you look at that. Some asshole from Kanto makes his great entrance.”

Guzma knew he shouldn’t do it. Still he sat down next to her. Grains of sand dug into his legs, moonlight was reflected on the water’s surface. It smelled of salt and freedom. It reminded him of a youth he didn’t want to think about.

“And that asshole from Kanto is always one step ahead of me. Even Hau starts running after him like a good Rockruff.” She laughs bitterly. “And in the end, he saves numerous people, all of Alola. Hell, the whole world. But that isn’t enough, right? He becomes champ, too. And Kukui is over the moon – well, quite literally.” She finally turned to him, and the same disappointment that lay in her words shimmered in her eyes. “I hate Kanto. I hate Sun. The complete opposite of me, right? Friendly, nice, savior of the whole damn world. Even down to our names. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“You’re nothin’ but a whiny brat.”

She laughed. This time, it sounded less bitter than before. “You too. Nothing but a sad outcast. Never really fitting in. I get it, I really do.”

She was so young. She had enough time to get it, someday. She could do anything with her life. For him, it was already too late. He had had a family, but not a healthy one. He had convictions, but not good ones. And now he was nothing.

“Don’t let yourself get dragged down. You’re a good girl, I’m telling ya.”

He didn’t find the right words to tell her everything he felt. But it seemed to be good enough. She held his gaze, her grey eyes lightening up.

“I’m not a good girl,” she mumbled.

“Not like that goddamn Sun, maybe. But you’re you. Dunno, maybe that’s good enough.”

She smiled. “You can be pretty cute when you try.”

He scrunched his nose up. “Am not fuckin’ cute.”

“Look. You’re getting embarrassed. You can’t tell me that isn’t cute.”

“Dude, I’m not embarrassed.”

“Not a dude.”

“Not how it works, princess.”

She watched soft waves break on the shore, a gentle smile on her lips. “Could you say that again?”

“What?”

“Princess. To be honest, I kinda like it.”

Destroying was easy. Just smash something until there was nothing left to smash. Building something up was harder. Guzma already went through it all with Team Skull – without Plumeria, everything would have fallen apart faster than he could blink. Caring for something, watching it grow, being proud of it; he had never learned how to do it.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he hesitantly reached out for her. Halfway in he realized what a stupid idiot he was, but by then, she had already grabbed his hand, pulling it closer until it rested on her head. He needed seconds to calm himself down. Then he patted her hair with feathery touches.

She closed her eyes and smiled.

Two weeks later he saw her again. Before she could call for the barkeeper, Guzma had already ordered a rum and coke for her, a few gestures enough for the man to get it. For a long time, she looked at Guzma from the corners of her eyes without saying anything. It made him restless. Then again, if he were to speak, nothing but bullshit would leave his mouth.

“Team Reskull, hm,” Moon said eventually.

Guzma took a nip of his beer. “Plums’s idea.”

“Don’t feel like being the big bad boss anymore?”

The corners of his mouth twitched downwards. “Guess those days are over.”

“That’s weird. Just because Hala beat you down for once, you give up?”

With an annoyed sigh, he turned to her. Her look was challenging. Expectant. “Am not under his care anymore. Haven’t been for some time now. Tryin’ to figure things out on my own, y’know?

Moon’s eyes softened. She looked down at her drink, but didn’t take a sip. “Do you think Plumeria will make a good leader?”

Guzma snorted. “Shit, the best. Listen, was her boss, right. But she was the actual leader. Without her, I’d be nothin’.”

“You like her.”

He knitted his eyebrows. “’Course I do.”

“You _like _her,” Moon repeated, her gaze more pressing.

He needed some seconds to finally catch on. “Fuck, not like that. Like a sister. Would never … Nah, not her.”

She didn’t avert her gaze. “Not her. Who then?”

There it was again. Pugnacity in her eyes. Whatever she was trying to do, Guzma knew that he shouldn’t play along. A young thing like her didn’t know what she wanted. A young thing like her was always searching for something new, for something exciting, for something thrilling.

“Never thought ‘bout that,” he responded.

“Bullshit. You’re not twelve.”

He stared. “And you’re not twenty-one.”

Instantly, she smacked a hand over his mouth. Guzma’s first reaction was to back away. His second one was to grab her arm. Instead of withdrawing it, she stared at him, eyes wide. “Say that in front of that barkeeper asshole again and he’ll throw both of us out,” she hissed.

Guzma didn’t move. Her hand was still pressed over his mouth. In her sudden motion, she had leaned forward, her other hand resting on his thigh. He couldn’t ignore her scent, the hint of sweetness. Her whole body radiated warmth, her fingers digging into his skin.

He yanked her hand from his face and jumped to his feet. Moon toppled forward, but she managed to catch herself on the counter. “Hey, where are you going?” she called after him.

“Bathroom.”

He marched straight out of the bar. Outside, he started swearing before hitting his forehead against the wall. Honestly, he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. And clumsily making a move like that on him – just ridiculous. He hoped to god he was just imagining things. Or maybe she wasn’t doing it on purpose.

Shit, that would have been even worse.

When he reentered the bar after some minutes, Moon wasn’t where he left her. He asked the barkeeper about her, but the man just shrugged. She didn’t show up for the remainder of the night. But Guzma wasn’t in a position to really worry about it.

Some days later, Plumeria and him didn’t sit at the counter. Instead, they had snatched a table in one of the dark corners of the bar. She had told him about her plans. Rebuilding Po Town until it would be a real town. Destroying the walls hiding it from the rest of the world. Becoming a family, this time in the right way. She suggested that he came back, that they renovated his old mansion, that they made it their new home.

Guzma, laughing, declined.

The bar was a bit fuller than usual. A starlit night, way too many tourists flocking in, and still they squeezed themselves into a measly bar like this. Yet he would have recognized Moon anywhere. Her slender form as she fought her way through the crowd. The gentle sway of her hips to the background music. She was on the look-out for someone, eyes directed at the bar.

“I know that one,” Plumeria mumbled next to him. “Moon, right? Were names like that really popular at some point?”

Guzma looked at her for a long time. “She says while her name is Plums.”

“Plumeria.”

“Doesn’t make much of a difference.”

“Piss off.” She raised her eyebrows. “Oh. How old is Moon again?”

“Too young.”

“Too young for rum, I bet.” She scrunched her nose up when Moon approached them, sitting down at their table without a second of hesitation. Guzma almost flinched. But her attention was on Plumeria as Moon pointed at her.

“You know about the sixth sense?” she asked, her voice as clear and light as ever. “You can feel when someone’s talking about you behind your back.”

“You can feel when someone’s looking at you,” Plumeria corrected.

Moon looked at her, puzzled.

“That’s the sixth sense. Looking, not talking.” With a sigh, Plumeria rolled her eyes. “What do you want, shrimp?”

Moon disregarded the pet name with cold eyes. “How’s it going with Team Reskull?”

“Great.” Plumeria leaned back, nipping on her beer.

“Great.” Moon copied her actions.

“How’s it going with your gym leader application?”

Not only Moon coughed loudly at the comment. Hoping that no one noticed, Guzma didn’t let his glass sink down and took another hearty gulp. Then he discovered Moon’s eyes landing on him. She was looking at him as if having slapped him, as if being horrified by her own actions.

“How would you know about that?” she hissed and turned back to Plumeria.

“Nanu.”

“Nanu?”

“I’ve got my social contacts, shrimp.”

“Astonishing.” With a sigh, Moon looked up to the ceiling. “Dunno. I applied, but I don’t have a specific Pokémon type. That’s important, I’ve heard. Maybe I should decide on one.”

Plumeria cocked her head. “And the Pokémon you’ve got now? What about them?”

This time, Moon’s sigh sounded annoyed. “What are you trying to say?”

“Should think ‘bout it twice, princess.”

Guzma’s sudden words made Moon flinch. She looked at him out of big, glistening eyes. Seemingly hesitating, she responded only after some moments. “You think I’m not cut out for it?”

This look. As if her whole future depended on his answer. Guzma shifted on his seat, feverishly struggling for words.

When he sent a pleading look in Plumeria’s direction, she blinked at him, bewildered. Then she looked at Moon. Then at him again. And then her face fell.

“What the hell is going on between you two?” she asked.

Great. Awesome. Now he couldn’t even look Plumeria in the eye.

“Nothing.” Was the truth, after all. Just why did it sound like a lie when it was coming from Moon’s mouth?

Guzma grunted in annoyance. “Drank together. Sometimes. ‘S all.”

“Oh my god,” Plumeria whispered.

“Listen up, whatever you’re thinking, Plums –”

“I’m joking,” she interrupted him. “I don’t give a shit what you are doing with whom. Your business, boss. But because someone has to tell you sooner or later – ew.” With that, Plumeria emptied her beer and stood up. “Have fun dealing with this wonderfully awkward situation. Paperwork is waiting for me at home.”

Plumeria vanished into the crowd. Internally screaming, Guzma looked after her. When he turned back to Moon, she was staring stubbornly at her drink. Shit, shit. He watched the people next to him, looked at his hands, tapped against his watch – not even midnight yet, for god’s sake – until Moon finally gave a sigh.

“I wanted you to be the first one to know.” Her nails hit against the glass, over and over. “I swear. I – I sent them my applications just three days ago, and –”

“Don’t owe me anything, y’know.”

She looked up. Then she snorted, averting her gaze. “Right. That was stupid. I mean … Yeah, stupid. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t get it. Not really. He understood the _what_, but not the _why_. Why him of all people? What had he ever accomplished in his life? He couldn’t wrap his thoughts up in pretty words like others did, and yet she hung on his every word as if seeing her personal messiah in him. Whole thing was just crazy.

“When’re you gonna know?” he asked.

It took her some moments to look him in the eyes again. “Four to five weeks.”

“Know where to find me. Gotta make a toast to your new job, yeah?”

Her face lit up. Radiating eyes, radiating smile. “I’d really like a cocktail. As expensive as possible.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Piña colada? Come on, how about it?”

“Arceus, princess. Some tacky shit, that is.”

“Don’t be boring, boss.”

Only one week passed until she appeared again.

Too early. He wasn’t ready. He felt his heart make a jump when she sat down right next to him. Same corner, same place, similar amount of people. He had never noticed that Moon smelled like coconut and vanilla before, and it made everything just so much worse.

“Now, boss, what’s with that face?” She grinned. “Or rather, what’s bugging you?”

No reaction.

“Because … you know, because you like bug Pokémon. You get it?”

He didn’t even manage a weak smile. With a grumble, he leaned back.

“Okay. Seriously. What’s wrong?” Moon asked.

So genuinely worried. Nobody had ever looked at him like that. His parents maybe, yeah. But that was something different. His parents would have still thought of him as an angel on earth if he’d snitched every last piece of furniture from them.

“I’ll refuse,” he burst out.

Moon drew her eyebrows together. “Lovely. I’m not offering anything.”

“Nah.” Because he didn’t know what else to do with his hands, he rubbed his face. “That job, I mean. Seriously. Can’t do it.”

This time, Moon didn’t say anything. She kept looking at him, but didn’t say anything. He almost wished he wouldn’t have to put it into words – but he didn’t have a choice.

“Kukui. Told me there’s an open position. A gym. That wimp of a champs wants to send me to Ula’ula.”

Her eyes widened. “Gym leader. He wants you to become a gym leader.”

“The eighth one.”

That made her understand for good. And he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t watch her face as disappointment would break over it. He couldn’t witness yet again how every ounce of hope died. Being not good enough. Being not strong enough. Being not smart enough. Even a girl like her.

“Fuck that. Don’t need it.”

“You’ll decline?” Her voice sounded brittle.

“Yeah.” He did it. He looked at her. But instead of disappointment, he only discovered burning anger. A familiar anger. An anger that had become his best friend, a long time ago.

“Seriously?” she pressed.

“Not lyin’. I swear.”

“Are you a goddamn idiot?”

That reaction left him speechless, though.

“If you’re telling me that you’ll decline because of _me_, then I’ll kick your ass during the next twenty-four hours. Hard. For real.”

Didn’t she get it? She was young. She deserved it more than him. She had goals and dreams that he had given up on long ago. For him, everything was already lost. For her, anything was still possible. What kind of twisted logic let Sun think that Guzma would make a suitable gym leader? That was bullshit. Absolute, senseless bullshit.

Despite all those reasonable thoughts swirling through his head, Guzma only managed one feeble sound.

“Um.”

“Because of _me_.” She smacked his arm. “Because of _me_, are you insane?” She smacked him again, harder. “What is wrong with you? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You – you give up because of a little girl? Are you that stupid?”

“But you wanted to –”

“I did! I wanted this job! Shit, I wanted it!” She smacked him again, even harder, and her voice climbed up an octave. Honest desperation echoed in it. Guzma felt the sudden need to run away and hide. “Because I can’t accomplish anything else in my pathetic life. But take a look at yourself! What the hell are you doing with your life, huh? Giving up on a better future because you don’t want to hurt a little girl? You are – you are such a –”

“Hey, Moon …”

“No. Listen to me.” She grabbed his face. Small, warm hands on his cheeks. Button nose and pink lips. Her eyes were glazed over, her voice became a whisper. “You’ll take that job. You’ll become the best damn gym leader that Alola will ever see. You and your Golisopod will wipe the floor with every single challenger who dares come near you. Got that?”

He hesitated. He hesitated too long. Moon’s gaze wandered some inches downwards, then abruptly up to his eyes again. Her cheeks were dark red – out of anger, out of something else, how should he have known. Instead of backing away, she waited. Instead of staying where he was, he leaned closer. Closer. He could hear her breath hitch. Her eyelids grew heavy, her unfocused gaze holding him in.

His brain shut off for good.

Roughly, he grabbed the back of her head and met her lips halfway. She gasped in surprise, giving into the way his mouth moved over hers. He impatiently licked her lips, groaning when she immediately opened her mouth, greeting him with the same eagerness he felt. She pressed herself closer to him, her small hands clutching his back, her mewls high-pitched and desperate. His fingers raked through her silky strands, coming to rest at the base of her neck. Everything about her tasted sweet. Every sound she made shook his whole body. He wanted to make her break apart underneath his hands, wanted to destroy her in the most delicious way possible.

A loud bang sounded next to them, and automatically Guzma pulled away from her.

“Honestly, you two,” Plumeria hissed at them. “But discretion is not your strong suit, huh?”

Moon whirled her head around. They were getting stared at, true, but what did it matter? Wasn’t like he had pounced on a girl who could easily be half his age. Wasn’t like he was the adult here, the one who should have kept himself in check. Wasn’t like Moon was staring at him again, eyes wide with uncertainty. And fear.

Fuck.

Before he could say anything, Moon had already moved away from him. Then she squeezed through the crowd. Some people looked after her. When Guzma wanted to follow her, Plumeria grabbed his arm and held him back.

“Okay, boss,” she said. “Pretty sure you’re the last person she wants to see right now.”

Cursing, he sat down again, hitting his head against the table. “Shit. What’s wrong with you, you idiot? Why,” he raised his head and let it fall down again, “are you like that? Goddamn dumbass!”

“In your defense, she’s nineteen. Just doesn’t look like it.”

“Nineteen,” Guzma repeated. “You know when I was nineteen?”

“Eleven years ago.”

“A fucking eternity ago.”

“True. Who gives a shit? As long as you’re not getting it on right here, everything’s A-okay.” Plumeria let her chin sink down onto the table. “People just got a stick up their ass, nothing to be done. Especially when a tattooed old fart is groping a cute thing like her.”

Guzma groaned. “Shut the hell up, Plums.”

“Plumeria.”

“Plums.”

“Thanks for the beer.” With that, she snatched his glass and emptied it in one gulp.

Against Plumeria’s words of advice, Guzma headed off to the beach. In his head, it kept rattling. The more he tried to ponder over it, the less he knew what to do. But something like thinking had never gotten him anywhere.

Moon sat in the sand, looking up at the night sky.

She must have heard his steps. He didn’t bother concealing them. Then he came to a stop, a healthy distance between them. He cleared his throat, once, twice, before finally daring to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” Moon looked at him. She didn’t smile. “I liked it. I like you. Don’t apologize.”

He returned her look, searched for an explanation in her eyes. He didn’t find one.

“It’s just …” She took a deep breath. Then she stared at the ocean. “You know how it feels? When you’ve got two options. But one of them seems absolutely hopeless, so you opt for the other one. And then you realize that the first option is still a possibility. And you regret your decision, because the first option sounded so much better, but you can’t change anything anymore, and now you’re just sitting there, wishing you could turn back time. You know?”

He crouched down and followed her line of sight. “Whoever he is, he’s the better choice.”

“No, you knucklehead. You are …” She interrupted herself. Seconds passed until she continued. “Everybody underestimates me. Only you don’t. That’s … It’s a nice feeling.”

“What’s it about then?”

She stood up. Sand scrunched underneath her shoes as she came closer. Next to him she squatted down, leaning her cheek on his shoulder. Every breath she took brushed his skin.

“Can’t we just, I dunno, ignore that whole shitfest of a world and do as we please?”

“Tried that,” Guzma laughed. “Ya know the outcome.”

“Yeah. You became the strongest gym leader of Alola.”

“Will take a while.”

Her body shook in a quiet laugh. “Good. You’ll accept.”

He sighed and sank down into the sand, cross-legged. Moon watched him, and he returned her look, and he couldn’t bring himself to protest when she wrapped her arms around him, straddling his lap and hiding her face in the crook of his neck. At first, he wanted to avert his gaze in embarrassment. Then her lips pressed against his skin, against his jaw, against his lips.

“You’ll accept,” she mumbled. “I believe in you, okay?”

He growled, pressed her body against his, and kissed her.

Two weeks later, his flat. Small and untidy. For days, he had refused to take her with him. She had to know what it implied, after all. Probably exactly what she wanted. But a girl like her deserved more – more time, more perfection. Next to her, he just felt shabby.

“Okay.” Moon clapped her hands. “Where do you hide the guns?”

Guzma left his keys on the side table. Then he wrinkled his forehead. “The hell ya talkin’ about?”

“Thugs. Guns.” With her hand she formed a pistol, aimed it and pulled the trigger, her motion accompanied by a softly whispered “bang”. Then she blinked at him. “Oh my god. Right. You were a bunch of pussies.”

He took everything back. That girl didn’t deserve any respect whatsoever.

She inspected every corner of his flat until she reached his bed. King-sized. He needed the space, that was all. Shoulder leaned against the threshold, he watched as she slipped out of her shoes. She threw herself onto the mattress, bouncing for a moment. Then she buried her face in his pillow.

“Lost it for good now?” he asked.

She sat up, pillow still pressed against her face. “Smells like you,” she said.

“So?”

“I really like how you smell.” Cheeks gleaming red, voice muffled.

And just like that, his whole thinking capacity skittered into dangerously low areas.

Moon let the pillow sink into her lap. “You wanna come here?”

Not a good idea.

“You can’t look at me like that and just do nothing.” Her voice became softer, almost pleading. “That’s not fair.” Pouting, she hunched her shoulders, looking at him underneath her lashes.

“Guzma,” she breathed. “Please.”

His restraint snapped for good.

He came closer. Close enough that he could bend over her. She stared at him, not backing away, her back meeting the blanket as he leaned in. Her lips were slightly parted, the pillow still hiding her body.

“What ya want me to do?” he asked, his voice rougher than he intended it to be.

She swallowed thickly. “Whatever you want to.”

“Asking you.” He softly pulled the pillow from her body, allowed himself to look at her. Really look at her. Her small shoulders, the curves hidden underneath loose clothes. His hands twitched, but he kept himself under control. “What d’you like?”

She blushed so hard that it reached the tips of her ears. “Kiss me?”

He did. Softly, lips moving over hers. It was her who arched her back until their bodies touched, who parted her lips, who explored his mouth eagerly, mewls escaping her throat. With gentle firmness, he pushed her body back into the mattress. A perceivable shudder passed through her body.

“Touch me,” she whispered.

He obeyed. His hand hovering over her neck, over her chest, feeling her breath hitch as he brushed her breast. He gulped. Found the seams of her shirt. Let his hand wander underneath the fabric. Groped her breast with a harshness that made her cry out.

Shit.

He was about to withdraw his hand when her voice made him stop. “Guzma. That felt … good. Please don’t stop …”

Heat raged through his body, and she writhed underneath him as he kept touching her skin, kneading her flesh in just the right places until she became a mess of gasps and whimpers. Her cheeks were a beautiful scarlet red. When his fingers dug into her thigh, she arched her back, moaning.

“Still good?” he asked.

“Oh god, Guzma,” she breathed.

Damn it. He became hasty as he pulled her pants down, as her underwear followed. He kissed a trail along her thigh, coming closer and closer to her heat, his name breaking on her lips. Her sweet taste on his tongue was addicting. He almost got lost in the way she cried out his name between breathless sounds.

She gave herself to him like no woman had ever done before.

In the morning, she gently pulled Guzma’s hand from her waist and sneaked out of bed. He was sleeping soundly, one arm sprawled over her side of the bed. Moon couldn’t hold back a smile at the sight. Her letter was unmissable, a white sheet of paper on his kitchen table.

Then she left his flat.

Sun had really come to say goodbye. She told him a few times what an asshole he was before hugging Hau. Even Gladion was here with him. But she wasn’t that surprised. The two boys clung to each other as if not surviving without the other one around. Hau clung, at least. Whatever else was going on between them was none of her business.

Kukui only appeared after everyone else was gone.

“Ignoring my application, but sending me to Kanto without a moment of hesitation?” She shook her head. “You are one weird dude, Kukui.”

The professor barked out a laugh. “Didn’t ignore that, cousin. Sun personally suggested you.”

“He did.”

“Still the only one who can help Lillie out, y’know.”

Right. The only one who had nothing much to lose. Her family was in Alola, but that was it. Nothing tied her to those islands. No matter how long she’d stay in Kanto with Lillie – there was nothing holding her here. She pressed her lips to a thin line and looked across the sea.

“Guzma and me,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if … I don’t know. But he would have needed me. He needs someone.”

Kukui looked at her wordlessly.

“Take care of him. Promise me.”

Understanding colored his face. Instead of answering, he held his little finger out to her.

She hooked her own finger in.


End file.
